


Hi Ho, Hi Ho - the slash version

by spikesgirl58



Series: Mouth of Babes [26]
Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Same as Hi Ho, Hi Ho, but with a bit of whoo hoo on the side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hi Ho, Hi Ho - the slash version

Lisle stood in front of the stove, relishing the last few minutes of peace that she would be permitted.  Upstairs she could hear her family stirring to life and knew that the insanity was just moments away.  She flipped the pancake she was cooking and watched it rise.  For now, though, her time was her own and she let her mind drift away from driving schedules, doctor appointments, and laundry.  In a few days, they would be leaving on vacation and she was both anticipating and dreading it.  A change from  her routine would be refreshing, but it was also a change in routine - not always a good thing for babies.  Peter, as long as there was food at hand, was pretty mellow.  Inessa, on the other hand, thrived on a schedule and Lisle wondered how she’d react on the airplane.  The last thing Lisle needed was a cranky baby or, worse, one who pandered to her favorite pastime, making loud noises.

Lisle glanced over to where the twins sat in their highchairs.  Peter was contenting himself with a tray full of Cheerios.  Some were even making it to his mouth as he worked on eye/hand coordination.  Inessa was alternately slapping the plastic tray and shouting ‘bang’ while scattering the cereal around her.  If any food actually got into her mouth, it was by sheer accident.  Every once in a while, she looked over at her mother, with a huge gaping smile, a single tooth poking up through her gums. 

“BANG,” she shouted and pounded on her tray, sending a shower of cereal into the air.  She giggled wildly and squirmed.

Peter squealed and joined in, but he was more conservative with his food.  He wasn’t about to lose any cereal to the floor.

Lisle shut her eyes for just a moment and remembered not so long ago when she was one of THRUSH’s top agents.  There wasn’t a safe she couldn’t crack, a trap she couldn’t wiggle out of.  She was her mother’s daughter, or at least, so Lisle thought.  Then she got a very strange phone call, one that had changed and quite probably saved her life.  Still, she hadn’t planned on giving it all up to change diapers and drive car pools. 

It had been a man claiming to be her father.  An insane idea, as Lisle couldn’t imagine anyone willingly coupling with her mother.  Then she’d met him, quietly, on the sly and the matter was no longer open for debate.  She had his eyes, his hair, and his determined outlook on life.  Between them, they engineered her escape from THRUSH, a welcome change to her way of thinking.  She’d long since tired of their chains, but she knew too much to be permitted to leave alive.  It had taken UNCLE capturing and ‘brainwashing’ her to make THRUSH give her up as a lost cause.

Then Leon had waltzed into her life.  Initially, he was everything she didn’t find attractive in a man.  She preferred blonds, she wanted sharp, meaningful discussions, and she craved danger and aggression.  Leon was dark, like his father, and a flirt from the get go; he put on an air of genteel naiveté, but he proved one of the most intelligent men she’d ever met.  He could be goofy and silly one minute and serious and calculating the next.  And he was also one of the most generous lovers she’d ever known, but there was something more.   There was this instant connection between them.   She’d taken a look and had felt a strange sensation in her heart, as if she’d just discovered a piece of herself that she hadn’t even known was missing.  She wondered if that was how it was between their fathers, for there was no denying that something similar existed between the two men. 

Then she’d gotten pregnant, not the smartest move on her part.  Lisle heard a noise behind her and glanced over and down at the result of that pregnancy.  Alex, yawning, was walking into the kitchen, rubbing an eye and dragging a limp eared bunny behind him.   His tee shirt was on backwards and only half tucked in.  His shoes had, by some twist of fate, actually made it onto the right feet this morning, but neither shoe could claim a perfect bow.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Lisle said, bending down to give the tousled blond hair a kiss.  “What would you like for breakfast?”

“I’m not really hungry.”  Alex started to climb up into a chair as he considered.  “Just a doughnut and some of those little sausages, cereal… maybe another doughnut… and some pancakes… no fruit.”  He paused to drink his juice and smacked his lips loudly in obvious relish.  One thing was certain, her boys loved to eat.  “Morning, babies.”  He waved to them and Inessa giggled reaching for him.

“Boom, Ick, boom!”

“I’m not Ick, I’m Alex.  Alex.” 

“Ick!”

“Alex, Nessa, Aaaallleeexxx…”  he repeated and then shook his head.  “I don’t know how you do it, Mommy.  Babies are such a handful.  Can I have more juice, please?”

Lisle smiled.  “Yes, they are, but well worth the effort…most of the time.”  She picked up the box of cereal and Peter squirmed happily, reaching for the box with chubby saliva-covered hands.

“Mo!” he demanded.  Lisle tipped another handful onto the tray and he plunged into it.  Inessa had finally turned her attention to licking the peanut butter off a piece of toast and Lisle poured a splash more juice into Alex’s cup.

“You and Alex have your grandfather’s appetite, that’s for certain.”  Lisle plated some pancakes and passed them to her oldest son along with some sausages.  He reached for the syrup, grinning happily.  “Is your sister ready for school?”

“Reenie’s really mad this morning.”  The mere thought of his sister being angry made the boy even happier.

“Why is Irina mad?”  Lisle ladled more batter into the pan and turned the heat down on the sausages to keep them from drying out.

“Grampy and Poppy had their door locked again last night and wouldn’t let her in.”

“Irina needs to remember that her bed is where she’s supposed to be sleeping.  Not in either of her grandfathers’ beds.”

Lisle watched her son’s brow furrow.  He wasn’t exactly immune to crawling in with either of his grandfathers, but since discovering the house had been bugged and was on the brink of being attacked, both of the older UNCLE agents were on edge and Lisle had been actively discouraging the midnight visits. 

There was a loud thumping sound and Lisle sighed.  Irina was jumping her way down the stairs, making as much noise as she possibly could.

Lisle expected her son to be a handful, but not her daughter.  Angelique had been right- Lisle was destined to have a daughter who was as difficult to raise as she had been.   Irina was smart, but willful.  To call her stubborn was an understatement. 

Alex, on the other hand, would sit and quietly draw or build with his blocks for hours.  He was studious, observant, the complete opposite of his sister.  If he hadn’t been born first, Leon would never have had the chance of convincing her to have a second child.  Irina would have put her right off possibly having a second one like her.

She came in, a vision of pink, her current favorite color.  Unlike her brother, she was perfectly put together, right down to her hair ribbon.  It was hard to believe she was the younger of the two.  Leon said it was because his daughter had an old soul.  Lisle suspected it was due more to her grandfather’s finely honed sense of style.

“Well, I’m mad…”  Irina stomped into the kitchen and climbed up into her chair.  Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout and she crossed her arms over her Tigger-covered chest.

“And good morning to you, Irina.”   Lisle set a plate in front of her.  “You have a choice this morning.”

Irina looked down at her plate and up at her mother.  “What, Mommy?”

“Either you can go back up to your room and think about your behavior or you can pull that bottom lip in and be pleasant.  I’m sorry you’re mad, but it’s not always about what you want.”

“It should be.”  But the lip retreated slightly as a pancake with Mickey Mouse’s face appeared before her.  “I wanna be Tink, then I could fly through the keyhole and surprise Poppy.”

“I don’t think he’d like you to surprise him, sweetie.”

Leon walked in whistling, _Hi Ho, Hi Ho_.  “Just three days and counting.  Are we all ready to go see Mickey?”

“Some of us more than others,” Lisle muttered, turning back to the stove.  Leon came up behind her to hug her tight to his body and nuzzle her ear.

“And you, my love, are you ready for your Prince Charming?  Your handsome prince is here to rescue you from the fierce dragon.”

“One eyed trouser snake is more like.” Lisle let her British accent slip out, as she turned into his kiss.

“And they call it _bella notte,”_ Leon sang in between kisses.

“Daddddd.” Alex drew out the word.  “I’m eating here.”  Irina was making a face and hiding her eyes.  “I think you need a cold shower.”  Alex turned his attention back to his rapidly disappearing pancake.

“Alex!”  Lisle scolded.   “Where did you hear that?”

“Poppy told Grampy that last night.”  Alex frowned and ran his finger through a small puddle of syrup.  “I don’t know exactly what it means though…”

“Hang around your grandfathers and you’ll learn…”  Lisle muttered.

“Where does he get this?  Most kids would be happy to see their Mommy and Daddy showing each other some affection,” Leon protested, pushing aside blonde hair to kiss Lisle’s neck.

“These are your children, not most kids.”  Lisle laughed.  “Bring me his plate, would you?”

Leon released her and crossed to the table, pausing to kiss first one, then the other baby.  Inessa held up a handful of toast to him and he took a bite from it.

“Mmm, soggy and gooey, just the way I like my toast.”

Alex made a face, but contented himself with grabbing his last bit of sausage before his father picked up his plate.

 “And what about that bottom lip?  What’s going on with that, Princess?”

“She wanted to sleep with Poppy last night and he wouldn’t let her in.”  Alex’s voice had a superior tone to it.

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

Each exchange grew in volume until Lisle set Alex’s replenished plate before him and clapped her hands together.

“Enough!”  She pointed to the plates.  “You will eat and you will be quiet or I will make you both very sorry you even woke up this morning!   Do you understand me?”

Leon grinned at his children.  “I’d say yes.  She can do it, you know.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly and quietly, with only the adults talking.  Alex finished eating and slid from his chair to carefully carry his plate to the counter.

“Thank you, Alex.  That was very grown up.”  Lisle smiled at the somber little boy.

“You’re welcome, Mommy.  I’m a good boy.”  He ran from the room and a moment later Irina was on his heels, her breakfast barely touched.

“You are not!” she shouted.

“Am too!  I’m a legend in my own mind…”

Lisle sat and stared down at her plate, sighing.  “I’m guessing that was one of Dad’s as well…”

“It does sort of have his disdainful edge to it.”

“That child!  She must live on air and dust motes.”  Lisle regarded Irina’s barely touched plate, resigned. 

“A bit like her mother then, what?” Leon cracked with a horrible British accent.  He started to eat.  “Lisle, she’s healthy and at the perfect weight for her age and height.  Whatever she’s doing must be working for her.  You shouldn’t force food on children.”

“I wish I could be as casual with the children as you are.”

“We had different mothers.”

“Which is a good thing since we’re married and all.”  She cut her food into careful squares, each one the same size.

Leon smirked and reached over to take her hand.  “I just mean my mom was a bit more easygoing…”

”Like your father…”

“…than yours was…”  He kissed her fingers.  “You are an incredible mother, Lis.”

“Except for when I want to cook them up in a pie…”

“Shades of Hansel and Gretel.”  He shoveled a pancake into his mouth.

“I was thinking more along the lines of Sweeny Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street.”

“You just need a break… I don’t know how you manage to keep this all together, day after day.”

“We’re not the only ones who need a break.  I think both our dads will relish the quiet.  Mine’s been a little...”

“Tightly wound?  Paranoid?  Pissed off, anxious, tense, unhinged, a Nervous Nellie…?”

“Standing behind you.”  Illya’s voice cut him off.

“Morning, sir.”  Leon made a face at Lisle and she giggled, hiding her mouth behind a napkin.

“That doesn’t work with your father either,” Illya said, struggling to get his plaster encased arm into the sleeve of his suit jacket.

Lisle stood and held the coat for him.  “You’re supposed to keep that in a sling.  That’s why they gave it to you.”

“I get enough of that at work and from Napoleon, Lisle, thank you.”

“I don’t mean to sound critical, boss, but you **have** been driving us pretty hard at work.”  Leon forked the last bit of sausage from Irina’s plate. 

“Would you prefer I permit a sniper to put a bullet through your father’s head?”

“Dad!”  Lisle snapped.  “I’m going to give you the same option I gave your granddaughter.  Be nice or leave.”

Illya glanced around the kitchen and sighed.  “I’ll select her obvious choice.”  He walked quietly from the room, with just the trace of a limp.

“Wow… that was unpleasant,” Lisle muttered, watching him leave.

“He’s twice as bad at work.  He’d got most of Section Three in tears and that’s the guys.”  Leon polished off his breakfast and the rest of Irina’s barely touched pancake.

“He’s in pain… I guess?”  There were times when her father was a complete mystery to her, but she could see where Irina got her moodiness from.

“It’s his own fault for not having that arm set properly the first time around.”  He drained the rest of his coffee.  “I’d find him a girl, but I don’t think that’s necessarily his problem.”

“Not every problem is solved by having sex, Leon.”

“It should be.”

“And that would be my blood talking, I suspect.”  Napoleon entered, shooting his cuffs.  “I just passed that bundle of joy I call Illya in the hallway.  Are we about ready to leave, son?”

“Yes, sir.”  Leon stood and kissed Lisle briefly.  “I’ll see you tonight, love.”  He left the room, shouting, “Okay, you, two munchkins, let’s make tracks.  Hi ho, hi ho!”  He started singing again and Napoleon winced.

“And **that** would be my singing voice.”

“What he lacks in skill, he makes up for in enthusiasm.”  Lisle started to clear the table, knowing that the older man had already eaten.  While they tended to share dinner with her, Leon, and the children, both fathers usually ate breakfast in their third floor apartment and lunch at work.

Napoleon started to leave and looked back at his daughter in law.  At some times, she looked so much like Illya, he wanted to sigh.  Today, however, she looked concerned.  “Lisle, are you all right this morning?  You seem a little punkish.”

“Napoleon, is my dad okay?”

“Illya, I think so, why?”

“He just seems so… so…”

“Illya?”  He grinned and kissed her forehead.  “He’s worried about the retrofit here and getting it all done before you get back.  He’s worried about a security leak in the Middle East.”

“He’s worried about you.”

“Yes and all of you as well.  He’s angry about the lapse in security and scared about how close it came to fruition.”

“Leon says he’s in a lot of pain, is he?   Are you two going to be okay here alone?”

“Lisle, my sweet, we have been taking care of each other for a long time.  I think we can manage a couple of weeks on our own.  I’ve had my arm broken and it wasn’t particularly painful.  And yes, I had it set twice, too, but for very different reasons.  He’s in as much pain as he wants to be in.”

“I just worry about you two.”  She offered him a sausage.

“I shouldn’t…” 

She waved it in front of his face and Napoleon grabbed her wrist and bit into the link, chewing with a smile, his eyes half closed in pleasure. 

“Mmm, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had sausage?  Or even grease?”

“Dad still has you on that low fat diet, does he?”

“If it wasn’t for the business lunches and the beef jerky I keep in my desk, I would starve to death.”   He walked over and patted Peter’s head, deftly avoiding the mush covered hands before they contacted his suit jacket.

“Gamp…”

“Who’s the smart boy who knows his Grampy?”  Napoleon allowed just a bit of grandfatherly pride to sneak out.

“Probably the same one who knows his grandfather is already late for a meeting with the Shah.”  Illya’s voice wiggled its way through the closed door.  “And the annual review board.”

“Yes, mother,” Napoleon muttered, tossing Lisle a quick smile.  “Excuse me, duty calls.”  He accepted the rest of the link and walked out.

“What are you eating?  Did you even bother to read the results of your last physic…?”  Illya’s voice was suddenly cut off and Lisle smirked, knowing full well where the rest of the sausage had ended up.

 

                                                                                                *****

Napoleon walked down the corridor and sighed to himself.  How many years he’d walked this path, although in his younger days, it had been in the opposite direction, usually with the devil on his heels.  Now he was the one calling the shots, sending agents into the field, hopefully to return. 

He nodded to a pair of Section Three agents as they passed him, assignment folders tucked under their arms, suit jackets abandoned, ties dangling loosely around their necks.  For a minute, he envied them, longing for that rush of adrenaline, the sheer excitement of being alive and not knowing what danger could be lurking around the corner.  Then his knee clicked and he smiled, self effacing.  To have that would mean no children and no grandchildren.  He’d never entertained a future with children; he’d settled for knowing his partner was safe and still at his side.  He’d thought they’d creak and groan their way into some retirement home, content with each other for company.  Now his life was full of noise and laughter, tea parties, toys, colic and diapers.  He couldn’t be happier.

The door slid open at his approach and he glanced in.  Illya was sitting at his desk, glasses on the end of his nose, the pencil in his hand occasionally bursting into short spurts of action.

“I don’t want excuses, just get it done,” he snapped without looking up.

“All right, but could you give me a hint of what needs doing?”

Illya glanced up and smiled, shaking his head in apology.  “Sorry, my friend, I thought you were Rogers again.  That man has an excuse for every day of the week.”

“Does he need retraining?”  Napoleon sat down and cranked his head sideways to read the report Illya was working on.

“No, training he has; he needs motivation.”  Illya pushed away the paper and sighed.  “Failing that a swift kick in his… asset.”  He pulled the glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Might I make a suggestion?”

“I wish you would as I am nearly at the end of a very long and frustrating path.”

“Give him to Leon for a week.”

“Really?”

“Trust me on this, partner.”  Napoleon picked up Illya’s stapler, playing with it.  “If Leon hasn’t made him come around by then, we’ll reassign him to another section.”  He set the stapler back down.

“That’s enough for me.  Are you ready to call it a day?”

“I am, but you don’t have to stay here and wait for me.  I am capable of finding my own way home and I do have three strong and able young agents to help along the way.”

“Indulge me my paranoia.”  Illya punched a number into his phone with a stiff forefinger and muttered into the receiver.  He stood, making a face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not as flexible as I used to be.”

“You were pretty flexible last night.”

“Napoleon!”

“What?”  His partner was all innocence.  “You got through the living room, up two flights of stairs and only crushed a handful of LEGO blocks and Barbie’s head.  To my way of thinking, that makes you one of the most flexible men on the planet.”

“My hip would disagree with you and your car is ready.”  Illya pointed to the door.  “After you, my dear Alphonse.”

 

                                                                                                ****

 

Lisle sighed and wrapped a towel around her head.  It had felt wonderful to have a few minutes to herself.  Leon had come home early and plopped the two older kids down to watch a Disney movie and put the twins in their playpen.  With a grateful kiss, she had headed for the hall closet and pulled out suitcases.  Piling them on her bed, she finally felt like she was ready to start the monumental task of packing.

She’d managed to get the laundry done and much of the packing finished for the little ones, but then the bathtub started to call her. 

Lisle had crept back out to the hall and checked on her family.  It was the picture of domestic bliss and aside from a pile of stuff that she had stacked in the hall, the house was still pretty much neat and tidy.

The bath was long and indulgent.  She’d even poured herself a glass of wine while the tub was filling.  She tuned the little radio to a station of classical musical, lit a few candles and celebrated a quiet moment of her own.

Now, refreshed and calm, she brushed out her blonde hair and pulled on her favorite pair of jeans and a Minnie Mouse tee shirt.   At last, she felt like celebrating!

Then she walked out into the living room.

Leon was sound asleep, sprawled out in the couch.  He had a blond curly wig on his head, brilliant red cheeks and lips and was clutching a Barbie doll with a crushed head as he blissfully snored.

Frantically, Lisle looked around at the playpen, but both babies were gone. 

“Alex, Irina?” she called softly, but there was no answer.  Then she heard the giggles and she headed out of the living room and into the small room they used for an office/study.

She saw Alex first, his face a multitudes of greens and browns, set off by his having a false eyelash stuck under his nose in a grotesque mimicry of Hitler’s mustache.  The mate he wore on his chin.  He had on a thick wig of black hair, cut pageboy style and it was held in place by a headband.

Peter had a series of thick scars stuck to his face and was happily smearing blue eye shadow on his sister’s face, who had on a sombrero, glasses, and thick mustache.

And then there was her Princess.  Irina was wearing a lab coat five times too big for her and was carefully applying rouge to her face and staring at her reflection.  She had on a Fu Manchu mustache and thick bushy eyebrows.  “Oh darling, you do look lovely,” she gushed to her reflection.

Lisle gasped and stuffed a fist into her mouth as she ran back to their bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, laughing and flailing as if she was having a seizure.  Trust Irina to find her grandfather’s make up kit.  She laughed until her sides ached and then happened to look at the clock. 

“Oh, no!”  She got to her feet and went to the living room.

“Leon, wake up, I need your help!”

“Wha-a-?”  The man came awake with a start and then looked down.  “Should I even ask why I’m holding a doll?”  His hand went to his head.  “Or wearing a wig?”

“In this house?  Come on, I need back up, but I’ll warn you; it’s a brutal sight.”  She half dragged him from the couch.  “All we need is half an hour… fifteen minutes…”

“For what?”

“To fix this.”  She pushed him through the doorway and heard him.

“Holy Mother piss buckets… what the hell are you kids doing?”

Irina’s face lit up and then she shook her head.  “Daddy, you are the brave doctor who’s saving squashed head Barbie from Mr. Pink Toes.”

“Mr. Pink Toes?”  Leon glanced over at his wife who shook her head slowly.  “No, I don’t want to even know who that is…  Irina, look at this mess!”

The little girl glanced around and then back at her father, blue eyes wide.  “What mess, Daddy?”

“The one your grandfather is going to make of you when he walks in and sees what you’ve done with his $400 Ben Nye makeup kit.”  Leon shot Lisle a look. “The mood he’s been in as of late, this is bad.”   He clapped his hands.  “Let’s get this cleaned up before…”

“Before what?”  Illya’s voice was dead calm behind Leon.  The younger man’s Adam’s apple bobbed for a moment, then he turned to face the Russian. 

“They didn’t know what they were doing, boss.”

“That’s obvious.”  Illya looked past him to where the babies sat, happily smearing pancake base into the hardwood floor. 

“They’re just kids.”  Leon tried again.

“How did they get access in the first place?”

“My fault, Dad, I pulled stuff out of the closet to get to the suitcases.”  She turned back to her husband and punched him in the arm.  “He was supposed to be watching the kids, not sleeping.”

“Sure and you trying staying awake for the 143rd showing of _Dumbo_ ….” Leon groused.

“Irina?”

“Yes, Poppy?”  Her voice was very, very small.

“You and I are going to have words.”  Illya limped over to the girl and held out his hand.  “My makeup?”

She reluctantly handed the box to him which he tucked awkwardly under his casted arm, then he scooped her up with the other.

“Dad…”  Lisle took a step, but Leon caught her arm and slowly shook his head.

“No, sweetheart, he’s got a point.”

Illya nodded sharply and walked from the room just as Napoleon was entering. Lisle followed behind.

“Dad…”

“Where’s he going… oh my lord, have you taken a picture yet?”

“What?”

“That’s your Christmas card in the making.”  Napoleon laughed as he squatted down, making a face as Peter reached up, blue fingers making stripes down Napoleon’s cheek.  “That’s quite the manly beard you have there, Alex.”

“Thank you, Grampy.   I’m G.I. Joe…”

“I’m sure you are… and you, son?”  Napoleon pulled the wig from Leon’s head.

“Apparently the handsome doctor of squashed head Barbies.”

“That title works for you.”  He looked around.  “So where was my partner headed?”

“To dispense a little frontier justice, I think.”  Lisle returned with a washcloth and towel, which she held out to Leon.  “You wash, I’ll dry.”

“Boom!” Inessa shouted and tipped over on the floor giggling.  Peter crawled to her, leaving a trail of handprints to mark his way.

“Alex, go wash up for dinner please.”  Lisle pointed in the general direction of the bathroom.  “And don’t  touch the walls.”

“Can I keep my mustache?”

“No.” 

They had the babies cleaned and Alex had begrudgingly handed over his disguise.  Still there was no sign of Illya and Irina.

“I don’t hear any crying,” Leon ventured as they returned to the living room.  He looked over at the stairs.

“With Illya, you wouldn’t…” Napoleon murmured, then he stopped dead and grinned.  “Oh my…”  Irina had appeared in the doorway, her lips a vivid red, her eyes painted and adorned with false eyelashes long enough to rake leaves.  Mounds of vivid red curls hid her dark hair and glittering jewelry decorated her arms, fingers, neck, and ears.

“What do you think, gentlemen?” she asked in as sexy a voice as a five year old could manage.

“I think you look like a shameless hussy…” Napoleon said, shaking his head.

“You’re right, Poppy, he loves it.”

“That’s not what I said,” Napoleon protested as Illya appeared beside Irina. 

“Yes, your grandfather has a weakness for wanton and fallen women.”

“Do I now…partner?”

“So goes the word on the street.”

Lisle came in.  “Dinner is… oh… oh, dear…”  She stopped in her tracks when she saw Irina, then she started to scan the room.  “Has anyone seen Irina?”

The little girl giggled.  “I’m right here, Mommy!”

“I… I hear her, but I don’t… wait, you, glamorous woman of refinement, have you seen my daughter?”  She scooped Irina up.

“Oh, Mommy, you’re being silly.”

“Words was it, boss?” Leon asked as Illya wiped off his hand on the towel around his neck.

“I decided that if she wanted to play with makeup, the least I could do was to show her how to use it properly.”  He shifted his eyes from Napoleon to Leon and back.  “Well, she’s not likely to learn from her mother, not given Lisle’s hatred for wearing makeup.”

“I’m just going to go on record saying that this has to be the weirdest family around since the Addams Family…”  Leon said, sighing softly.

“So you say, Handsome Doctor of the Squashed Head Barbie.”  Napoleon slapped his son on his back.  “And Lisle, dinner is ready?”

“What, oh, yes… just as soon as we remove a pound of makeup…”

“But, Mommy…”

“No, you go wash.”  Lisle glanced at her father.  “And you help her!”

Illya saluted and took the girl.  “Come along, shameless hussy.”

“Another four years and we’re going to all need therapy.”  Lisle was still shaking her head.

“Naw, you won’t need therapy.”  Napoleon slid an arm around her waist and Leon mirrored the move on her other side.   “You have us.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring…”

“You think it’s bad now, wait until you get back from Disney World.”

 

                                                                                                *****

Napoleon stared out the window at the rain splattered world.  “It’s only been a day and it feels like they’ve been gone a month.”

“And I’d feel better if you didn’t present yourself as a target,” Illya muttered, his eyes never straying from the papers he was studying.  “Moping isn’t going to make the next two weeks go any faster, Napoleon.”

“I know, it’s just so quiet.”  Napoleon walked away from the window and settled back down beside Illya.

“Three days ago you were begging for some quiet.”

“Three days ago, I had a headache.”

“You want a headache, go downstairs.  I’m sure the workmen will be happy to comply with your request.”

“I’m serious, Illya.  Don’t you miss them?”

The smile that answered him was sad.  “Of course, I do, Napoleon.  But they have a right to be a family without us tagging along constantly.  We should be happy that we are allowed to be as involved in their lives as we are. “

“I know.”

“And I miss you as well.”

“What?  I think that’s physically impossible, Illya, since we live and work together.”

Illya set down the papers and rested a hand on Napoleon’s.  “When we are here, with the children, they are our constant focus.  We are together, but at the same time, we are not.  We sleep apart now more than we ever have and as the grandchildren grow older, we are more and more conservative with our affection for each other.”

“I don’t mean to…”

“Nor do I, but it is a reality.  We censor ourselves without conscious effort now, always aware that at any moment, we could be interrupted.”

“Leon and Lisle have never said anything…”

“They wouldn’t.  They were aware of our relationship when they invited us here to live.”  Illya ran a hand up Napoleon’s arm.  “We just seem to be drifting apart more and more with each passing day.”

Napoleon leaned into him, lips finding their mark and lingering.  Without hesitation Illya’s mouth opened to his and Napoleon gently pressed him backwards until they were lying side by side on the couch, arms around each other.

“Still feeling adrift?” Napoleon whispered into Illya’s ear, then sucked the lobe in.

“Yes, still… more kissing please.”  He tilted his head so that Napoleon had better access to his neck.

“I think we’d be more comfortable on the bed.”

“I’d be more comfortable without my arm in a cast.”

“That considered and all.”  Napoleon pushed his way off the couch and held his hand out, tugging gently as Illya came to his feet with a grunt that Napoleon chose to ignore.    “Yours or mine?”

“How about ours?”  Illya led the way to Napoleon’s bedroom.  “I’m tired of sleeping apart.”

“What about the kids?” Napoleon started to unbutton his shirt as they walked.  “What happens the first time they crawl into bed with us and we’re both naked?”

“Then we wear shorts and play a round of ‘let’s deal with that when the time comes,’ I suppose.”  Illya had his turtleneck over his head, muffling his voice.  Napoleon grinned and took the opportunity to reach for Illya’s belt, using it to pull the man close.  Illya half stumbled, but regained his footing as the shirt came free.

Napoleon reached up and combed the blond hair back into place as Illya wrapped his arms around his partner’s waist grinding pelvis to pelvis.

“Please tell me the door is locked,” Napoleon whispered as Illya’s tongue licked a path to the hollow of his throat, lingering there to suck at the skin, marking it.  Napoleon used the time to undo first his and then Illya’s belt.

“It is.” 

“I’m going to take you,” Napoleon whispered, easing the zipper of Illya’s pants down, slipping his hand inside to caress the erection he felt building there.

“You’ve never been able to take me in a fair fight, Napoleon.”  Illya had moved to the side of his neck, leaving small red marks in his wake.

“Unfair it is, then.”  Napoleon worked his hands around the waistband of Illya’s pants, pushing down and permitting them to drop free.  He glanced downward and pulled away from Illya slightly, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your hip; is it okay for this?”  Napoleon traced the long scar with a gentle finger.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I think that if we exercise some moderate restraint, it should be fine.  It has been three months… three very long months… since my surgery.”

“You could have jacked off.”

“Not the same…”

“I’d…ah… happily offer my oral services.” 

Illya tilted his head back in pleasure as Napoleon’s fingers moved to Illya’s erection, working up and down with just the right pressure, pausing at just the right moment to let a fingertip dip into the slick preseminal fluid.

“Pleasant, but still not quite what I need at the moment.”  He thrust into Napoleon’s fist.

“I know what I said about taking you… would it be easier if you…”

“Probably, but I’ve never been sanguine about easy.”

 

Napoleon toyed with the sweat-damp hair at the nape of Illya’s neck, feeling a languidness spreading through his limbs, making them comfortably heavy.  His arm was draped over Illya’s waist, his penis still happily nestled against Illya’s ass.  His hand was sticky with Illya’s semen, which he was slowly massaging into Illya’s groin.

“You okay?” he asked as he saw a grimace of pain twist the man’s lips as he shifted.

“Napoleon, it has been nearly a year since I’ve been capable of indulging in anal sex.  Rest assured that any discomfit I feel is not from my hip.”

“Just remember that later.”

“Why?”

“It’s been a long dry spell for me as well and I don’t want to hear any grousing when I start complaining.”   He pulled away a bit more.  “Would you like me to get some ointment?”

“No, it’s just a little uncomfortable, but not something I would have skipped for the world.”  He pressed back against Napoleon, sighing softly.  “It feels like forever since we’ve done this.”

“Had sex?”  Napoleon resumed toying with the blond hair at Illya’s neck.

“Just held each other without worrying about anything or anyone else.”  Illya brought Napoleon’s hand to his mouth and kissed his fingers.  “This I have missed even more than the sex.”

“Really?”

“Well, no, but I thought it would make you feel less like an object and more of a cherished lover.”

“So much for my technique.”  Napoleon kissed Illya’s shoulder.  “So how much longer?”

“Until what?  The workers finish?  The family returns?  Lunch?”

“Before you’re good for a second run?”

Illya rolled onto his back, his penis already partially erect.  “Oh, I’m thinking any time now…”

“My hero.”

 

 

                                                                                                ****

Lisle pushed her way into the house and set a baby down on the floor. Immediately, Peter started to crawl off, predictably towards the kitchen.

“Alex, grab him!”

Alex struggled to hold onto his little brother.  “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“With all the construction that’s been going on here, I don’t want him crawling around until I’m sure there aren’t any nails or things he could eat.”

“He can’t be that hungry, we just finished lunch…”  Leon struggled through the door and dropped four suitcases and two diapers bags.  “You know the _Mayflower_ had less luggage when they left for America.”

“They didn’t have two teething babies,” Lisle pulled off her sweater and tossed it onto a chair.  “Ready for the next dirge?”

“Unless we can magically make the rest of the car unload itself…”  Leon trudged  back outside where Irina was patiently sitting with Inessa.  “Do you think Dad is home?”

“He should be…”  Lisle sighed.  “Do you think he’d help?” 

“I think they both will once they know we’re here.  You go get Inessa and I’ll go check.”

Leon took the stairs two at a time, then paused on the third floor landing.   He tapped on the door and upon receiving no answer stepped inside. 

“Dad?”  The small living room was still, but then he heard music softly playing and he walked toward the closest bedroom.  He glanced in and swallowed, then retreated as quickly and quietly as a trained UNCLE agent could and locked the apartment door behind him.

 

Lisle looked up from putting Inessa in the playpen.   “Are they here?”

“Oh… yes, they are very definitely here.”

“Are they coming down to help?”

“No… no… they are kinda busy right now… doing… things…”

“I’ll go help them!” Alex announced, but Leon snatched him up swinging him through the air. 

“No, they don’t need your help or anyone else’s right now.”  Leon glanced over at his wife and smiled.  “You keep the kids down here and I’ll unload the rest of the car.”

“Leon?”  Lisle followed him to the door, her face concerned.  “What’s wrong?  You’re all flushed.   Are you getting sick?”

“No, I’m fine.  I don’t think they know we’re home yet.”

“What?” 

“They’re… um… busy… really busy… together…”

Then Lisle’s eye grew large.  “Oh, well, yes then… I think you’re right.  Why don’t you kids go watch some TV?”

“But I want to see Grampy and Poppy!”  Irina crossed her arms and frowned.  “I bought ‘em a hat and everything!”

“They’re taking a nap right now… sort of… they don’t want to be disturbed.”

“I wouldn’t disturb them, Daddy” Irina argued.

“And I think you would.  So, go watch some TV or go help your Mommy.”

“Well, I never…”  Irina turned on her heels and walked toward the living room.

 

Leon was wrestling the last armful of luggage in as Napoleon was coming down the stairs.

“I thought I heard something.”

“Grampy!”  Twin voices cut him off as Alex and Irina ran to him and he scooped them up, taking their enthusiastic kisses gratefully.

“I missed you two.  I had no one to play with with you both gone.”

“Didn’t you play with Poppy?”  Irina asked between kisses.

Leon’s face flared and Napoleon shot him a look.  “What?”

“Nothing, Dad, just tired.”  He spun and waved his arms.  “The place doesn’t look all that different.”

“All the windows have been replaced with double strength bullet proof glass, the water, phone and electricity lines have been secured underground, making them harder to tamper with.  The walls have been painted with a sound dampening paint that should keep our conversations private.”

Lisle walked in and she stopped, her cheeks pinking up.

“What is going on with you two?”  Napoleon stood as the children ran for their suitcases and treasures. 

“I… um… went up stairs... and… ah…”

“I didn’t realize we were being that loud,” Napoleon said.  “Of course, we weren’t expecting you back for another hour or so.  I guess I should be glad that I put pants on to find out what the noise was down here.”

“I thank you for that.”  She went up on tip toes to kiss Napoleon’s cheek.  “I’ve already had my share of answering awkward questions today.”

“Why did Irina ask me if I had a good nap?”  Illya asked coming down the stairs.

“No idea, Dad.”  Lisle walked over to him and gave him a hug, then she pulled back.  “Hey, your cast is gone!”

“Yesterday,” Illya said, twisting the arm left and right.  “It was wonderful to be able to take a shower without wearing a plastic bag rubber banded up to my elbow.  Did you have a good time?”

“Check this out…”  Leon trotted over to the playpen and lifted Inessa out, setting her on her feet.  “Nessa, go to Poppy.”

“Bang,” she announced and teetered in place for a second, then started to take hesitant steps towards Illya.  He knelt and held his arms out to her, scooping her up as she got within range.  “Bang, Pop, bang…”

“Bang indeed, Inessa, good girl.  And Peter?”

“Hasn’t quite conquered gravity’s pull yet, but any day now.”  Leon took the baby out of the playpen and he crawled rapidly towards his grandfathers.

“Puuttt, putt, puuttt.”

“He still sounds like a motor boat.”

“That’s missing a prop.”  Illya set Inessa back on her feet.  She took a step and then sat down with a plop.  Her eyes got big and Peter yelled.

“Bang, Ne, bang!

Alex and Irina started yelling and Lisle sighed.  “You don’t know how good it is to be home.”

Napoleon slid an arm around Illya’s waist and pulled him close, smiling.   “I know exactly what you mean.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
